Things That Cannot Be Said
by Art-Over-Matter
Summary: This chronicles Kidman's experience meeting and working with Sebastian and Joseph, long before STEM changes everything. If you were ever curious about Sebastian's last few journals, this is my idea of how that went... Mild Joseph/Kidman. Rated T for language.
1. First Impressions

_Relax. You know exactly what you need to do. Act natural. Make them like you, but not too much. Remember: you don't know any more than they do._

Kidman couldn't fully stifle the nervous gnawing in her gut. She knew once this first day was over, everything would be easier, but for some reason the stakes felt high today. If she messed this part up, everything else would go down the drain.

She stepped out of the police car and thanked her fellow officer from her old precinct for driving her here. As he drove away, she turned to the new KCPD station. The August sun beating down on her and reflecting searingly off the windows did nothing to calm her nerves, so she just walked in without another thought.

It was cooler and dimmer inside the building, and it smelled like new floors and old wooden desks.

"Juli Kidman?" the woman at the front desk asked before she could start to say something.

"Yes."

"Good, good. The others should be out in just a minute to show you around and all. Glad to have you here, Junior Detective."

"Thank you." She stepped away from the desk and pretended to care about looking around. She wasn't sure why it disturbed her that the receptionist was friendly or that she knew exactly what was going on. There probably wasn't a reason—why shouldn't she?

The oaken double doors to her left opened and a man walked out. When their gazes met, his expression did some kind of flicker that she couldn't read.

He had very black hair, somewhat almond-shaped, dark eyes, and thick-framed glasses. He looked around thirty, maybe, though she wasn't sure. He wore leather gloves, which she thought was a strange touch in the summer, and had his silver badge pinned not proudly as much as _officially_ on his shoulder.

"Junior Detective Kidman," he said, or maybe asked, she couldn't quite tell. "Welcome to KCPD twenty. I'm officially Detective Oda, but call me Joseph."

"Nice to meet you, Joseph" she said, accepting a handshake from him. "I'm glad to be here."

"Sebastian was supposed to be here," he said, turning and opening one of the oak doors again. "He probably just got busy. It's fine, we'll find him." He gestured for her to go through the doorway.

As they made their way through the building to wherever this Sebastian would be, Joseph explained things here and there, even introduced people in passing. Kidman's mind was somewhere else, though. Joseph seemed easy enough to get along with, but if she understood things right, Sebastian was the superior officer, so she needed to be on good terms with him. She didn't take the fact that he wasn't there with Joseph as a good sign.

When they got to a door that said Det. Castellanos below its frosted glass window, Joseph stopped. He hesitated, then said, "A couple things you should know about Seb before you meet him…. He used to be a cop and he's got more experience than just about anyone here, so he knows his stuff. He's actually brilliant, but don't tell him that or he'll just look at you funny. And he's not…you know, as scary as he seems."

Kidman raised an eyebrow—she couldn't imagine herself actually being intimidated by this guy—but nodded.

Joseph lifted a finger in a "give me a second" gesture, then opened the door and stepped inside. She could hear the beginning of their conversation.

"Hey Seb, did you forget our trainee was coming today?"

"No."

"Well, she's here…."

"I know."

Joseph sighed. "Come on, you know—"

He shut the door and their voices became too muffled for her to make out. She wrinkled her nose at the distinct smell of cigarettes that came through the door.

A moment later, the door opened again and Joseph came out, this time with another man. Kidman never would have admitted it, but he was…well, he was a tiny bit intimidating.

Joseph was about her same height, but Detective Castellanos was a good three or four inches taller. He had a "don't fuck with me" sort of presence, maybe from his two or three scars on his face or his flat expression. He wore a dark red tie that looked like it was tugged at a lot, since it was loose and the top button of his shirt was undone. His hair had an unkempt stubbornness about it; most of it was pushed toward the back of his head except for a thick strand that fell forward to the corners of his eyebrow.

"Detective Castellanos," he said, offering a handshake but no smile.

"Juli Kidman," she said, then remembered to add, "Junior Detective."

"You nervous?" he asked, studying her. She was used to men checking her out, but there was nothing sexual about this at all—it was like he was scrutinizing her very soul. It made her much more uncomfortable than if he _had_ just been checking her out.

"Not really," she answered, holding his gaze.

That seemed to be the wrong answer. "You should be," he said. "If you're going to work with me, you're going to take this job very seriously. You fuck around and you're gone."

"Yes, sir," she said steadily, but there was a defiance in her expression that she hoped told him he'd never get the best of her.

"Good," he said. "Now if you've made it this far I trust you're smart enough that I don't have to show you how things work around here. Joseph can probably find you something to do until we have an assignment. If you have questions, figure out the answer or ask him. Don't assume you know what's best if you don't. And keep yourself busy. If I find you lazing around or wasting time, you're going to have issues." With that, he swept back through the door with his name on it and let the door shut behind him.

Kidman stared after him with her eyebrows high on her forehead. "Wow," she couldn't help but say.

When she looked to Joseph, he had a cringe on his face. "I swear he's not really that bad once you get to know him. He's just…stressed right now."

Kidman felt skeptical, but she didn't entirely dislike Detective Castellanos. He was clearly very straightforward and since she wasn't great at reading people, she would find that helpful. She didn't have any problems following rules; as long as he didn't try to patronize her too much, they might be able to work together just fine.

"Alright," Joseph sighed. "Let's find something for you to do."


	2. Insults and Apologies

Almost three weeks since Kidman arrived.

"Tell me about the car. You said it was a sedan. What else?"

"Uh, it…it was light blue or silver or something. Um. The windows were really dark. I think its license plate number started with four?"

She narrowed her eyes slightly. Oddly specific to remember the license plate. "You said the windows were dark. You couldn't see who was inside it?"

He shook his head. He was sweating and fidgeting. "I—I think it was a woman, or a guy with long hair, I dunno."

"So you could see their silhouette?" _You're not very good at faking, are you?_

"I—kind of, I—"

The door to the interrogation room opened and Kidman was beckoned outside. Irritated, she swept her papers into her arms and left.

"What? I'm in the middle of something."

The man—she hadn't spoken to him much, and she was so distracted she couldn't remember if she knew his name—shut the interrogation room door and said, "Castellanos just brought in a woman who confessed. Nothing's official, but we're pretty sure you can let that guy off the hook."

She frowned. "Wha—what? No, I'm sure…."

He just shrugged and said, "Go talk to your S.O. He seems to know what he's doing."

By the time she found Sebastian, she was livid. She knew he'd been gone all morning, but he hadn't even told her he was working on this case. She'd been so certain she was right about the real criminal; she'd been ready to secure her first victory, even subtly bragging to the other officers that she'd figured it out.

It took her some time to corner Sebastian near his office, where there weren't other people around, during which her anger had festered inside of her.

"What the fuck?" she hissed, shoving him in the chest. "What the _fuck,_ Sebastian? You're supposed to be training me, not embarrassing me in front of everyone who works here."

"Kidman—"

"You knew I had the wrong suspect. You knew, or you wouldn't have gone out and found the real one. But you didn't help me, you didn't even _tell_ me that you were working on this, you just did everything behind my back. Why? Did you want to make yourself look good?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm just doing my job." He started to take off his trench coat as he turned toward the door and she saw the silver flask he always kept with him.

"An innocent man could've been convicted," she snapped. "Maybe you should step away from your self-absorbed alcoholism long enough to remember what your job actually _is_."

He glanced back at her with a look she couldn't quite read—maybe it was disgust—then went into the room and shut the door with an almost-slam.

As Kidman stood there, her anger waned slightly and she reconsidered what she'd said. Maybe she shouldn't have been so harsh. Most of the time she got along with Sebastian just fine, and besides, she didn't know what he was going through. Most people had a _reason_ for becoming alcoholics, and it was never a good one.

She shook her head and walked back down the hall. Whether or not she should have said it, she had, and in many ways, she meant it. She didn't exactly feel like apologizing.

Later that day, Joseph came to her.

"Hey," he said, and she looked up from the file she was studying. "I know what happened earlier."

"Were you helping him?" she asked as casually as possible. "With the case, I mean."

"Nah. I didn't know what he was doing. We usually don't—that's why just about everyone here has issues with him."

She frowned. They did? How had she not noticed that?

"Don't worry too much about it," Joseph continued. "We all make mistakes. I don't think you lost anyone's respect." He looked at her for a moment, as if considering saying something, then just shook his head. "Anyway. Seb wants to see you in his office."

She felt a little course of dread through her. "Damn," she muttered. She'd been hoping they could pretend the hallway incident didn't happen. "Pretty sure I lost _his_ respect," she said as she set the papers down and stood.

"I doubt it," Joseph said, though he didn't know the full story. "He actually thinks you're pretty good. He's just not good with people anymore."

"Anymore?"

Retrospective guilt reached Joseph's face briefly—that look of "I shouldn't have said that"—and he said, "Maybe he never was." As if to cover up.

"You sure seem to think highly of him," she commented, deciding not to pursue the subject.

He shrugged. "I've known him a long time. Eight years now, I think. He's a good guy. Undervalued here, too. He's just…difficult, for lack of a better word."

"Thanks, Joseph," she said, and it took her a moment to figure out why she was thanking him. "For…not taking sides, I guess."

"Of course," he said.

Silence fell between them.

"I should go find out what Sebastian wants," she said a little too quickly. Joseph nodded and she left.

Despite what Joseph had said, she still dreaded walking in that door. What if Sebastian had decided to give her to a different S.O.? Would everything still work out if that was the case? Or maybe he'd told Internal Affairs that she had not only disrespected but verbally abused a superior officer and she was going to get fired. Then everything _certainly_ wouldn't work out.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

There was a pause, then, "Come in."

The magnitude of the cigarette stench in the room matched that of the heaping ashtray on the desk. She tried not to make a face.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, a little quieter than she would've liked.

He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head, analyzing her. Just once holding his gaze became excruciating, he lowered his arms and sat forward again. She had no idea if anyone could stand up to him in the interrogation room.

"Look, Kidman, there are some things you need to understand about working here." He gestured for her to sit down, and she did so. She'd never really been in Sebastian's office before, much less sat down in it. "Doing what we do is difficult, especially in your position. You feel like you know everything you need to, but no one treats you like you do. It's infuriating; I remember. But there's also a danger in it. I'm not trying to make you feel like an idiot, but I am trying to teach you a lesson. When you're examining evidence, looking for a suspect—it's not about you. It's about the work, the information, the people involved. Some of these cases have very high stakes, and getting caught up in thinking you're right can have consequences if you're not."

She nodded. She wasn't really sure what to say. Though she didn't know what exactly she'd been expecting, she knew it wasn't the reasonable honesty she was getting from him.

"You're an intelligent woman," he said, pulling a cigarette out of the pack on his desk and a lighter out of the pocket of his vest. "You have the makings of a great detective. Just remember, slow down. This is delicate work. And don't lose your temper."

He said the last part casually, almost as an afterthought, not as though she'd literally assaulted him because of her temper.

She sat there in silence and watched him smoke when eventually he raised his eyebrows and said, "That was all. You can go."

"Right," she said quickly, standing. "Thank you. I apologize for being unprofessional earlier. And as for getting the case so wrong and—and letting it go that far…. It won't happen again."

She was pretty sure she imagined the smile more than it actually happened. "I know," he said simply.

She turned and headed for the door, but a tightness in her gut told her she wasn't quite satisfied with herself.

 _Just say it._

"And Sebastian?" she said, turning back as she opened the door. He looked up again and pulled his cigarette away with two fingers. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I had no right to make that accusation."

"Everyone else does," he said in a reasonable tone, as if that were an excuse for what she'd said.

"Well, that doesn't matter. I shouldn't have said it."

He put his cigarette between his lips again and said, "Thank you, Kidman" in a distracted sort of way, like what she'd said didn't fully get through to him.

She hesitated, then left feeling frustrated. After some consideration, though, she found that there had been a lot of value in that conversation anyway, and maybe Joseph had been right after all: Sebastian wasn't quite as scary as he let on.


	3. Suicide, Slowly

It was September now and something had changed.

A lot had changed, really. Kidman felt much more relaxed than she had her first few weeks, and she almost came to enjoy working with Joseph and Sebastian. She had to constantly remind herself to keep her distance from them; growing attached could spell disaster for all of them. Being distant from Sebastian wasn't too hard, despite her curiosity about him, but Joseph was a whole different matter.

But other things changed, too. Joseph seemed to grow weary, and sad almost, as if he'd suffered a personal loss, but a diluted one. Sometimes it would be days until Kidman could get him to smile.

Sebastian seemed…volatile. Like the kind of chemical that had a red flammable sign with the number 4 all around it. He drank more, worked more, and became even more difficult to be around. He got angry so easily, though his rage didn't come out in violent spurts; it just reduced him to a bitter shell, even of the person she'd first met. Sometimes she would pass the door to his office and glance through the pattern of glass, and he would have his face in his hands, or his head on his arms folded on the desk. She wondered if he ever slept or went home. She never saw the more considerate side of him anymore. She just saw despair.

She knew something big had happened. Something both Sebastian and Joseph knew, but she felt she didn't have the right to ask. What could cause such a change in them?

One day, she lost track of time while looking for information on a recent murder—a pretty gruesome one, too—and found that the building was mostly empty. The nighttime patrol officers were around, taking their shifts, but everyone else had left.

Curious to see if Sebastian or Joseph was still here, she headed toward Sebastian's office. The hallway was dim, but a sliver of light on the floor told her that he was still here and, unusually, his door was slightly open.

As she approached, she could hear voices.

"…know it's only going to cause trouble, Sebastian." Joseph, sounding pleading. "You can't keep this up, you're going to get yourself fired. Or killed."

"None of that matters. I have to find something, Joseph. I don't need to tell you that."

"I know. I know you feel desperate right now, but you can't keep doing this. Someone's going to get hurt, and I don't want that someone to be you."

"I'm fine." The sound of liquid swishing in a container. It must've been Sebastian taking a drink from his flask.

"You're not fine, you're killing yourself," Joseph stated.

Kidman moved just enough she could see into the room. Sebastian really did look horrible; he looked like he should've been passing out from exhaustion. But she didn't fail to notice that Joseph didn't look so great either. If there was one thing she knew about Joseph Oda, it was that he always tried his hardest at everything, and in this case, he was trying to talk Sebastian off a ledge. Devoting himself to that must've been exhausting in its own right.

"I don't want to report you, Seb," Joseph said, "but I might if this gets any worse."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm trying to do what's right, okay? I'm your friend. Respect that for once, would you?"

Sebastian sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He started to speak, but suddenly Kidman's respect for their privacy outweighed her own curiosity and she backed away. Whatever was going on, it was personal to Sebastian and she had to draw the line somewhere.

As with all big change, she found, the extremity of the change in her partners eventually passed, and these new people became normal to her. Anything they used to be became a distant memory.


	4. Snow and Cigarettes

Late December. Five months since Kidman first arrived.

"Got any plans?" Joseph asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"For what?" she asked absentmindedly.

"Next week."

Frowning, she glanced up at the calendar on the wall, wondering what was next week.

 _Oh, right. Christmas._

"No," she answered simply. She continued her work of shaking her pen to try to get its last ink out of it.

"Going to go home to family, at least?"

"No," she said, and it came out harsher than she intended. She tried to rescue the situation by asking, "How about you?"

"Yeah. For a few days, anyway. You have to hang up the badge and gun at some point."

She nodded and gave him a brief smile. "You deserve the break, Joseph."

"Thanks." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I feel bad leaving you two, though. I mean, I know Seb's not going anywhere either."

It occurred to her that she'd never thought about whether Sebastian had a family or not. He came off as such a lone wolf she'd never considered it.

"Don't worry about it," she told him. "It's just a week. I'll talk to him, keep him on track."

Joseph scoffed a little in dry amusement. "I think _off_ track is what he needs right now. God, sometimes I feel like I'm trying to take care of a younger brother or something. Just one that's five years older than me and alcoholic."

There was a bland humor to the comment but Kidman tried not to smile. "It's really great what you do for him, Joseph. I know it feels like you're not getting anywhere, but…. I'm pretty sure you're the only one here who still sees him as a human being and somewhere in him I think he sees that."

"I try," he said simply. "Someone has to."

Silence stretched long enough that Kidman turned back to her desk. Soon, though, Joseph spoke again.

"You know, Juli…."

It was so rare for anyone to call her by her first name that she looked up in surprise. But Joseph was shaking his head.

"Ah, never mind." He stood up. "Thanks for the talk."

When Christmas Day came along and Kidman returned to work, she found a shiny little red box on her desk, bow and all.

She frowned and picked it up, looking for a tag on it somewhere, but there wasn't one. Maybe someone misplaced it?

She figured that even if that was the case, she wouldn't know until she opened it, so without remorse she sat down and carefully did so. There was a flat white box inside the other one, and when she took the lid off it, she found a shiny wooden fountain pen inside. Seeing it made her oddly emotional. She couldn't remember ever actually receiving a gift before. And knowing that she cursed about her old pen on a daily basis made her quite certain this was, indeed, for her.

It was that, and not the arbitrary fact that it was December 25, that started off her day as a good one.

The station was fairly quiet. Some people had to work, of course, but without Joseph there and not having seen Sebastian all day, she spent her whole morning in silence. Eventually, she got bored of reading files and watching the fine dusting of snowflakes fall outside, so she went to find Sebastian.

She didn't have to make it to his office before she saw him. She caught a glimpse outside a window and saw him standing on the front steps of the station, smoking. It looked like he'd been out there a little while; his dark hair and vest were sprinkled with bright white snow.

If there was one thing she didn't do, it was approach Detective Castellanos about anything other than work. This would be a first, and it felt a little weird.

She felt she needed some kind of excuse to go out there, so she went to his office to find his trench coat. The _Det. Castellanos_ door was open a few inches, or she would've scrapped the plan right there.

Holiday cheer had definitely bypassed Sebastian's office. The rest of the building was mildly decorated with red and green, but this place looked exactly as it always did, messy but organized, with things spread everywhere, but in specific piles. The blinds over the windows were mostly closed, letting only slivers of the cold winter light in from outside. Even though she'd been in here a number of times, she felt like an intruder just in taking the necessary one step inside to grab the coat from its hook in the corner.

When she pushed open the front doors of the building, Sebastian didn't turn around.

"Merry Christmas, I guess," she said, stepping up next to him.

He gave a vague nod, as if he hadn't really heard her.

"I thought you might want this," she said, extending the trench coat to him.

He turned and looked back and forth between her face and the outstretched coat for a moment, then took it and said, "I'm not a fan of rules, Kidman, but I have exactly one. Don't touch my trench coat."

"I was just trying to—"

"Don't touch my goddamn trench coat."

She was about to get very annoyed when she thought she saw a sparkle of humor in his eyes and she wondered if he was just messing with her. It was impossible to tell. As far as she was concerned, his sense of humor ranged from dry comments to mildly sarcastic ones, but maybe there was a bit more than that.

"Did you get it as soon as you became a detective?" she asked lightheartedly, nodding at the coat as he put it on. "You know, because all good detectives wear trench coats."

She'd meant it as a joke, but he just said, "No, it was a few years after." It wasn't that he didn't get other people's humor as much as he didn't seem to care to respond in a humorous manner.

"Do you need something, Kidman?" he asked.

"No," she sighed. She often didn't have the patience or desire to get through to Sebastian in any way, but she kept thinking of Joseph and how hard he always tried to do exactly that. It gave her enough motivation to keep from just walking away.

"Something wrong?" Sebastian asked.

She looked up in surprise and realized he'd been watching her. "No. Not at all."

"You should get back to work, then. Just because someone decided today should be a holiday doesn't mean there's any less wrong in this city."

Her instinct was to retort _Well, I'm just following an example,_ but it was so rare for him to take a break that she didn't exactly want to use it against him. The amount which Sebastian worked was beyond impressive; it was obsessive.

"You're right," she said, "but I think the city will be fine for five minutes." She stepped up to him with an expectantly outstretched hand.

He frowned at her hand. "What?"

"Cigarette," she answered. "Give me one."

She knew she'd caught him off guard and it was, admittedly, the point.

Still confused, he pulled the pack out of his pocket and handed it, with his lighter, over to her. "Have you ever smoked in your life?"

"Not this stuff," she said, pulling a cigarette out and giving the box back to him. She could _feel_ the judgement in Sebastian's look when she held the cigarette in one hand and lit it with the other.

"No," he said, taking it from her before she could raise it to her mouth and throwing it aside. The snow quickly extinguished it. "Try again."

"I know that's not—" She didn't bother to finish. She'd started it, after all.

He handed her another and she put it between her lips this time. She had to admit it felt gross, but she'd committed and her pride was at stake now. He took the lighter from her but paused for a moment before using it, looking at her with a hint of an amused smile. "You can't pull it off," he said. "You're too classy."

It seemed like a backhanded compliment, and she was about to say something when he flicked the lighter on and held it to the end of her cigarette. She inhaled through her mouth and immediately doubled over, coughing. She spat the cigarette out in the process and it lay on the pavement, glowing and smoking, until she stamped it out with the toe of her shoe.

"I figured," Sebastian said. He actually looked amused by her antics. "Nice try, kid." He probably only called her kid because she was younger than him, but something about hearing him use her nickname made her feel distinctly content. "Though you just cost me two perfectly good cigarettes."

"Good is a relative term," she said, wrinkling her nose. She could still feel the kind of burn in her lungs from the smoke.

"All for the best," he said, holding his own half a cigarette between two fingers and looking at it. "It's not a habit you want to pick up."

She acknowledged that with a dry smile. She stepped off the steps and brushed snow from one so she could sit on it and watch the street. "You know, I had my doubts about coming here," she said, which was true and false. "It's not so bad, though. I enjoy working with you and Joseph."

"You should've been assigned to someone else," he said, watching a car pass by on the road.

She wasn't sure if she should've been insulted, but she wasn't. "Why?"

"Joseph and I…." He shook his head and sat down a few feet from her. "It was poor timing. Had you shown up…hell, about a year ago, things would've been different. Everything was different a year ago."

She didn't feel like she was qualified to ask how so, but she didn't feel particularly nosy today anyway. Instead, she looked over at him and found herself thinking: _I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell you why I'm here and that in a few months I'll probably be gone and suddenly I'm not sure I should do this anymore. I can't go back, Sebastian. I can't take back what I've agreed to._

As much as her personality continually clashed with Sebastian's, there was something she undeniably trusted about him. Even through all his alcoholism and obsessiveness and emotionally distant attitude, she could tell he was the type of person who always went to great lengths to do the right thing. She'd never known anyone—except, perhaps, Joseph—who she could say that about, and she knew she couldn't say it about herself.

"Kidman?"

She shook herself out of her thoughts and looked up. "Yeah."

"You sure you didn't need to tell me something?"

 _Fuck, I didn't think you could actually read people._ "Yes, of course."

"Just checking." He dropped the butt of his cigarette on the ground. "We should make ourselves useful. I don't know why I've been out here for so long."

He started to stand when she caught his arm, inadvertently causing him to sit again. "Sebastian. I—I know most of the people here underhandedly treat you like shit because of the drinking and all, and I can only imagine how that makes you feel. But…just try not to reflect that at Joseph. He really is trying to help you."

He nodded but just said, "Joseph deserves better than this." And he stood and left.

Kidman wasn't certain what exactly "this" was, but she felt better for at least saying something about it. She stared down at the two nearly untouched cigarettes in the snow and somehow she knew these oddly bonding moments with Sebastian would be some she wouldn't forget. Maybe because she knew intuitively that whatever side of him she'd seen—the one that asked her if something was wrong or if she needed to say something, or smiled at her attempt to smoke—it was one she may never see again.


	5. Further Apart

The new year came without incidence. 2013 felt like the kind of year that would sit very still in the corner, then lash out very suddenly and change everything.

Sebastian seemed to dig himself into a deeper and deeper hole of addiction and obsession and despair. Joseph tried in vain to pull him out. Kidman forced herself further from them because she knew she couldn't get caught up in their disaster. Eventually, she noticed Joseph starting to do the same.

She didn't know exactly when Joseph reported Sebastian to Internal Affairs, but she couldn't fail to notice when the aftermath hit in the middle of March. Sebastian disappeared from the station for a week. When he returned, any bond she or Joseph had formed with him was severed. He was unfathomably distant, but Joseph remained steadfast in his decision and only seemed frustrated that no change had really come of it. Kidman had drifted from both of them and only observed everything as an outsider. Professionally, the three were still a team, but personally, they were unified only the way a tangled mess of cords or strings was forced to stick together.

It was then, when they couldn't have been further apart, that they got the call.

"Wait, we're not going back to the station?" Joseph asked from the back of the police car.

"No can do," the officer behind the wheel, Connelly, said. "Just got an urgent scene call."

"Where are we headed?" Sebastian asked.

"Beacon Mental Hospital."


End file.
